The Legacy of Paneau: Legacy's End
by Sile Crowley
Summary: Sequel to LOP: Legacy's Chase. The final chapter in the Paneau saga follows the children of the Rys'tihns and Natiyrs as they leave their own marks on the galaxy. Feuding and tragedies test the resolve of both families as they face an outside threat and the last of Paneau's Prophecies are realized. Occurs 25 APC to 26.9 APC.
1. Prologue

_26.9 APC_

Though none wanted to admit it, every cantina in the known galaxy was the same. Some were dressed up to appear more expensive than others in order to draw in a classier crowd, some were tailored to a specific dominant species or particular job class based on their location, but they all boiled down to the exact same framework: secluded booths to keep conversations from being overheard, private backrooms for riskier, more illicit business deals, and a healthy supply of untrustworthy beings from across the stars, all as dangerous as the next.

Regulars and familiars returned to their usual tables and seats daily, and even some casual visitors seemed to know which areas to avoid, as if invisible warning signs were posted overhead or deflector shields kept them away. Horatio Sheridan wasn't a casual visitor, but neither was he a regular. He fit into no category, which made him even more wary of the other patrons around him. He was minding his own business with his glass of Corellian ale, but that didn't mean he was going to be left alone.

Tired from a lengthy and physically draining trip spent on Malastare, he sighed as he massaged his scarred, aching chest. He had spent the better part of three days hauling cargo around from his late sister's secret estate, and his fifty-two-year-old body was again reminding him just how damaged he was and how much abuse he had taken over the years. Frustrating him routinely, he still lacked full strength in his left arm from a cantina brawl that had nearly killed him almost twenty years prior. The stab wound he had suffered left a pronounced scar, and his breathing occasionally rattled from the residual internal damage, as well. Deilia Rys'tihn had saved his life and repaired what she could in the days following his injury, but he hadn't been the same since, in more ways than one...

Sipping his ale to rid his mind of his wandering thoughts, he returned his attention to the patrons surrounding him in the cantina. No one seemed to be minding him any more than he was watching them, which still kept him on edge. He had to be careful to not become complacent and fall victim to a surprise attack simply because he suddenly looked like a weak, easy target. He met any gazes directed his way with a hard glare, keeping his hand on his blaster holstered at his side just in case.

Someone else had caught the attention of everyone present, though, much to Horatio's relief. He took another swig of his ale before he looked to the cantina's entrance where all eyes were locked. At first glance, he wasn't surprised why there was such a response; the new visitor was a gorgeous, young redheaded human woman, a stark contrast to all the aliens and rough spacers that populated each seat. She stood out like a beacon, drawing all focus to her immediately as chatter about the room slowly became inaudible. What Horatio wasn't expecting, though, was that after a few moments...he realized that he _recognized_ her.

He turned his face away from her quickly, hiding his obvious reaction from her as well as from the others. It was as though he was suddenly staring at a memory that had materialized in front of him, a part of his past he had purposely long forgotten. He _had_ to be hallucinating; what exactly had the bartender put into his ale?

Without turning back or even hearing her footsteps, he could feel that she had made her way to his table, stepping up beside him noiselessly. She remained silent as the seconds ticked by, though, so she had to be a creation of his fatigued mind. There was no way it was her...

"You... You know who I am."

Her soft voice, especially her distinct Coruscanti accent, took him a moment to process. It caught him completely off guard, unless... No, it couldn't be. She didn't know who he was, did she? Even as he looked up at her and studied her face he'd known for years, he still wasn't sure she was real.

"We've never met."

Though he would have told a stranger the same thing, he was telling her the truth, if she was actually there. She didn't seem fazed.

"But you recognized me. I saw it in your eyes."

Beginning to sense the attention of the entire cantina solely focused on the two of them, Horatio was desperate to find a way out. "So what if I do?"

"I think I need your help."

He narrowed his eyes, already wary. "You think so? And what makes you think I'll give it to you? I'm busy."

Still, she remained at his side, no longer able to mask her hesitation. "Please," she begged quietly, "I don't know where I am, and...I don't know _who_ I am."

Stunned, Horatio stared up at her, waiting for some minute tell to become evident in any facet of her expression. He was even less convinced he was sane anymore.

"Is this some kind of a joke? Did your mother put you up to this?" The stares from around the room bored into him, setting off his flight reflex honed by years of living in the shadows and on the run from powerful crime lords and organizations...

"No, it's no joke," she countered carefully, completely oblivious to the rest of the guests around her. "I can't remember anything."

Nearly seething, Horatio met the stares with a dark look of his own. "You are getting me a lot of unwanted attention, Red..."

"If you knew my mother...will you help me?"

As much as he knew he was going to regret it, he couldn't let her face the rest of the cantina on her own. Releasing a deep sigh, he nodded to the open seat across from him, glad that at least she took it quickly. After another scathing sweep of glances around the room, he returned to her and studied her a moment longer, unsure why his luck had to be so...frustrating.

"You name is Cordira Natiyr. Your parents are Rech and Mand Natiyr. You have two younger sisters, Aruun and Arlen Natiyr. You were born on Paneau, and you're a Jedi. Ringing any bells?"

She was motionless as she absorbed the flurry of information he had flung at her, but she remained perplexed. "No, nothing. Where are we?"

"Myrkr. Not exactly a resort destination for you Jedi. How did you get here? What do you remember?"

She remained genuinely concerned. "I don't remember much of anything past a few hours ago. I woke up alone in a small room down the street. It was empty, except for a gray slab against the wall. I was...cold, shivering when I came to, and I couldn't see for a while. I got up when I was strong enough and saw this cantina, so I thought I would try to find someone who could help me here."

Again Horatio couldn't believe what he was hearing. _Had_ he heard her correctly? Just what kind of situation had so casually walked up to him?

"A gray slab," he repeated for confirmation, studying her expression. When she nodded and remained clueless as to what he had already figured out, he let out a weary sigh. He was far too involved to back out now. "You were frozen in _carbonite_. You have hibernation sickness, that's why you can't remember anything."

Finally understanding the gravity of her predicament, she looked down, seeming to concentrate even harder on what she could remember. "Carbonite... For how long?"

"A fairly decent amount of time if it's affected your memory so much. I think the more important question, though, is who would have done this to you, and why."

Worried, she bit her lower lip as she thought, briefly transporting him to his decades old memories of his former partner...

"Can you take me home?"

Snapped back to the present, he narrowed his eyes. "I'm not running a passenger service."

"I'll pay you once we get there."

"You couldn't even remember your own name. How do you know that you'll have anything of value to pay me with once we get there?"

She had begun to answer him, but realizing she couldn't, she remained silent, looking even more lost and inadvertently making him feel guilty. He sighed with frustration, feeling his conscience slowly getting the better of him. He wanted to stand up and just walk away, as he'd wanted to do numerous times in the past, but his muscles refused to move. In the back of his mind, he knew she was a clone of her mother, but it was becoming harder for him to look anywhere but at her familiar face...

Movement at the extreme periphery of his vision caught his attention briefly, and turning to look, he felt his pulse quicken. Three armed men had entered the cantina and were rapidly scanning the crowd, and he could already tell they were looking for her before they saw her.

"Go, out the back. Now." She only answered his command with confusion, heightening his urgency. "_Move_!"

He gripped her upper arm to pull her along with him, leading her out of the cantina into a dark, narrow back alley with few paths and even fewer exits. He chose the direction that would take him to the spaceport where his ship was docked, although he wasn't too satisfied with how vulnerable it left them to attack from behind. With his blaster in one hand, he shoved her ahead of him, keeping her quickly moving forward as he glanced back. As he expected, the three had followed them, and they were rapidly closing the distance between them. He swore under his breath.

"Who are they!"

Releasing a succession of blaster bolts behind him as cover fire, Horatio suppressed a growl. "I would _assume_ they're the ones who want you back in carbonite."

They turned a corner that led back out onto the main street, and Horatio sprinted with her across the way to the spaceport, having to dodge a dozen beings that were ambling about in their way. Though the spaceport was a maze, they just had to make it to the right docking bay and raise the loading ramp to escape their pursuers. His ship would take off in less than five seconds -

Piercing him from behind, a terrible pain tore through his left shoulder, stealing his breath. He called out in pain and stumbled briefly, but regaining his balance, he pushed Cordira further, protecting her and directing her to the docking bay door just ahead of them. He fired another several bolts at the men and felled one as he sealed the blast door behind himself, hopefully earning him those few extra seconds to get airborne. She tried to tend to him as he holstered his blaster and gripped his left arm, but he shook his head through gritted teeth.

"Get inside and strap in," he demanded, already losing sensation in his arm and feeling the pain from the bolt's damage subsiding. Thankfully she complied and stepped up into the ship, taking her seat beside him in the small cockpit after raising the ramp behind them. Everything was as he had left it, and though operating the controls with one hand was going to be challenging, he didn't waste any time. The _Cloak_'s engines fired up and its repulsors lifted the modest freighter from its landing struts, and Horatio quickly directed it out of the spaceport and into space, leaving Myrkr and their pursuers behind within minutes. Only after making the jump to hyperspace did he finally let go of a breath he had been holding, but his relief was short lived. As he looked to Cordira seated next to him, he wasn't expecting to see tears streaming down her face as she stared blankly at the console in front of her. Afraid that she had been injured, too, he looked her over briefly.

"...are you alright?"

Her quiet voice shook with an emotional quiver he wasn't prepared for. "He died in my arms..."

Though it was good that her memory was returning, he wasn't sure he wanted to press her for more about something that had visibly upset her so. "Who died?"

"I can't remember," she breathed, sounding weaker by the moment. "A man that I loved deeply... I wasn't fast enough. I didn't get to him in time... It's my fault."

It had been some time, but he knew those feelings all too well himself. He couldn't offer her much in the way of comfort, a stranger to her even before she'd lost her memory, but at least she wasn't alone as she suffered through her past a second time. How old was this memory she was reliving? Would she have to work through every traumatic experience she'd had in her life? It was going to be a very lengthy trip to Paneau...

Calming herself, she took in and released a number of shaky breaths, drying her cheeks in slight embarrassment. "I'm sorry... It hit me so suddenly, I wasn't ready." Unsure of what to say, he shook his head to dismiss her apology, watching her as she wavered in her seat. "I feel...I feel strange..." Before he understood what she meant, he noticed her entire body slump in her strapped seat, her head rolling to the side as she slowly fell unconscious.

"Cordira?" he called to her, reaching across to feel her thready pulse that was weakening moment by moment. Save for her breathing, she was no longer moving, sending him into a brief panic. "_Blast it_!" he spurted as he pulled the _Cloak_ from hyperspace, changing course. She was rapidly becoming critical, and he wasn't going to get her to Paneau in time.


	2. Chapter 1

_25.1 APC - 1.8 years prior_  
_Paneau, capital city of Dalon_  
_New Dalon Palace_

Tugging her uniform taut as she walked, Cordira Natiyr couldn't help but feel all eyes on her in the Palace hallway. Her white tunic jacket with its bold purple and gold stripe down her left side definitely stood out among the standard uniforms and official garb of the Royal Forces and other Palace dignitaries that flanked her on either side. They all knew who she was, but her newly formed specialty guard still drew criticism from Paneau's traditionalists and loyalists. She was the founder and leader of Verojec's Guard, so her uniform was purposely unique. She had made sure of that.

The New Dalon Palace had only been built three years prior, but it had become a second home to her, as much time as she had spent there recently. Although not formally part of the king's staff, she was rapidly becoming an unofficial attache, present for daily proceedings and special events alike. It wasn't exactly how she had envisioned her position becoming incorporated into Paneau's Royal Offices, but she was happy to serve the king as she was. Like her parents before her, she felt it was her duty to repay him somehow for what he and his parents had done for her family over the years.

As she stepped up to the Grand Throne Room, the Royal Guards recognized her instantly and nodded, opening the door for her with little pause. They stopped just short of bowing to her, a gesture that always left her slightly uncomfortable. She had been closely associated with both the Rys'tihns and the Banareccs since her birth, but she was far removed from actually being royalty herself. She was a Paneau native at least, but her parents were transplants, connected to the planet only because of a few important events when they were younger. She felt strange accepting so much formal respect on their behalf, but she could almost sense that there was something deeper, something almost mystical directed at her specifically that she couldn't quite put her finger on...

Full of ornate sculptures and delicate paintings, the Grand Throne Room was just as opulent as the rest of the New Dalon Palace. She was sure it closely echoed its predecessor in appearance, too, though she had only just been born the day it was destroyed. She was on her way to meet a fellow survivor of that dark day in Paneau's history, one of the few who, like her, had actually been inside the original Palace when it had collapsed.

King Verojec Banarecc was seated at an ornate desk, his ten-year-old son Verovani standing just beside him. General Alec Kareu, Admiral Cal Jax, and High Commander Koril Rys'tihn were all gathered before him, obviously in the middle of a casual discussion as she approached them. Two of the men were the highest ranking of Paneau's Royal Forces, in charge of the Royal Guard and the Royal Navy respectively, with High Commander Rys'tihn serving as the overseer of both. It wasn't unusual for morning briefings to begin with an update from the Royal Forces, but having all three together was somewhat unusual. King Verojec smiled broadly, though, as she approached, and the three officers parted to invite her forward.

"Ah, Commander Natiyr," King Verojec began kindly. "We were just talking about you."

Cordira returned the smile only weakly, her eyebrows arched. "About me, Your Highness?"

The eldest of those present and the least fond of her position, General Kareu nodded stiffly. "Aren't you supposed to have some new recruits trained already?"

She could appreciate the well-experienced general's thinly disguised hostility. Though unintentional, her group had practically replaced Paneau's Elite Guard detail that had long been assigned to the royal monarchs over the years. She had expected some friction because of the overlap in their duties, but her goal had never been to completely take over from Kareu. His attitude was sour, and deservedly so, but she had endured worse from him in the past.

"Yes, General. I have two new guards who will finish their training by the end of next week. After that, they will be ready to join the rotation, or be placed into new positions at King Verojec's discretion."

Undeterred by Kareu's bitterness, King Verojec smiled once more. "Excellent. Seyiri and I had just been discussing how we'd like to work with more of your guards. And just in time, too. Vani will be returning to school next month, and we think it's time he be assigned his own detail."

Unexpectedly feeling the attention of all present fall on him, the sandy-haired, green-eyed boy blushed uncomfortably. "Dad..."

"Vani, we've talked about this," Verojec continued sympathetically. "You'll be eleven years old in a few months. Do I have to remind you what I was doing when I was eleven?"

Vani shook his head as he looked down in resignation. "You were running Paneau by yourself..."

Laughing lightheartedly, Verojec glanced up at his officers, momentarily meeting High Commander Rys'tihn's gaze with meaning. "Well, not entirely by myself... I had quite a lot of help. Vani, you will be king someday soon, and this is one of those steps on your journey, becoming accustomed to an ever vigilant guard." He returned his attention to Cordira, still smiling pleasantly. "Please keep me updated. I'd like to know when we can expect these new guards."

Cordira nodded respectfully. "Of course, Your Highness. You'll be notified immediately."

Appreciative of her response, Verojec nodded, then looked to his officers again. "Was there anything else we needed to discuss?" All three glanced between each other but remained silent, prompting the young monarch to stand from his seat to dismiss them. "Then I won't keep you from your busy schedules. Thank you all for your time this morning."

With deep, respectful bows to their king, the officers turned and began to leave, and as she expected, General Kareu didn't even acknowledge her as he walked away. Admiral Jax and High Commander Rys'tihn both hesitated a moment, giving her almost identical sympathetic expressions in response to Kareu's behavior. She shook her head to dismiss their concern, even offering a small smile as High Commander Rys'tihn placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"See you for dinner this evening, Cordira," he told her as he and Admiral Jax passed, an unmistakable air of affection in his tone. She reached up and touched his hand before he left, thankful for his support that was almost parental. Of course, she had grown up in the Rys'tihn Manor alongside his own children, and he was just as much a father to her as her own was to the Rys'tihns. The seven of them, three Natiyrs and four Rys'tihns, had often required the attention of all four parents, especially considering how much trouble they had regularly gotten themselves into...

Returning her attention to King Verojec, she watched a moment as he and Vani shared a quiet moment, ending with a light kiss on the boy's forehead. Vani bowed to his father as he left with a Royal Guard, and though she had begun to remark on the boy's remarkable poise and maturity, Verojec was first to speak as he returned to his seat.

"I have to admit, I was a little surprised to see you here today, Cordira. Not that I don't enjoy your company, but I expected you to be spending the day with your family."

Briefly stunned and desperate to disguise it, she somehow managed a casual response. "My family?"

Verojec nodded, though he was becoming somewhat as uncertain as she. "Yes, I thought they would have arrived by now. Did they tell you they were going to be late?"

"No, but I'm sure they're just a little behind schedule, nothing to worry about."

Such a bold-faced lie was nearly impossible for her to stomach. Well-practiced in the technique, she used the Force to control her expression outwardly, as she was unwilling to admit to a man she held so much respect for that he had blindsided her in such a way; he knew more about her family's plans than she did.

"Well, in any case," Verojec continued, undaunted, "I hope you'll take the day for personal time and send Tavyna Jax in your place. I'd like to talk with her about some logistics for next week's conference in Kirodai."

"I'll call her in right away."

She began to bow, but Verojec quickly held up his hand to stop her, shaking his head with an embarrassed grin.

"How many times do I have to tell you...that's not necessary, not from you."

Though she knew it was against his wishes, her dedication to her office was important to her, too. "It will _always_ be necessary, Your Highness, even after your son takes the Crown in your place."

As she continued her bow with a genuine smile, Verojec rolled his eyes amiably and laughed as he dismissed her with a brief wave of his hand. She left the Grand Throne Room with a light expression on her face, but it fell the instant the doors sealed shut behind her.

* * *

_Paneau, capital city of Dalon_  
_Rys'tihn Manor_

Fresh off an early morning flight with the Edgepoint Squadron, Derek Rys'tihn could still feel the rush of adrenalin coursing through him. It had just been a brief training drill designed to further integrate some of the newer pilots into the squadron's overall cohesion, but he had reveled in every second of it. Though he wasn't nearly as experienced as some of the veterans, he was somehow able to restrain himself from showing off his superior skills, most of which came naturally to him. The son of a decorated former Royal Navy pilot and a Jedi had spent the past six years earning and keeping himself a place with the Edgepoints, always just good enough to succeed but careful to not outshine his squadmates...

Despite having changed out of his flight suit an hour ago, he still smelled engine exhaust and grease in his hair and on his skin. As he made his way through the Manor up to his room to get cleaned up, his purple-paneled astromech Tops rolled along behind him, idly whistling to himself to stave off silence. The constant, almost comical interjection of sound made Derek grin; poor Tops already missed his fellow astromechs, as though Derek's companionship wasn't fulfilling enough for him.

"You should've just stayed at the hangar, Tops. I'm sure Commander Pfau could've found something productive for you to do, and you wouldn't be so bored here."

Tops fired off a series of snippy whirrs and chirps, effectively communicating his displeasure at Derek's assumption. "Alright, alright, sorry," Derek laughed. "You want me to call Kaydee up here? She'd love to chat with you."

Another spurt of short beeps and whistles contained at least one expletive, Derek was certain. Despite being occasionally chatty himself, Tops had little patience for the talkative, cheery family protocol droid, much to Derek's amusement. Obviously it was a sore subject for the astromech.

"Well, unless I get called up on some emergency, I won't be flying with the Edgepoints again until next week. Maybe you can go help Dad? I bet the _Celestia_ is due for some maintenance before he leaves for that conference."

Letting out what he assumed to be a digital sigh, Tops eventually gave an affirmative beep, slowing to a stop and rounding on his wheels to return to the main floor. Derek watched him leave with a light chuckle, but before he resumed his pace, a familiar silhouette at the end of the hall caught his attention. The strong mid-morning light filtering in through the large window she was facing created such a contrast that it concealed her hair color, her most noticeable feature, but he would have recognized her form anywhere.

"Cordira," he greeted his best friend fondly as he approached, but when she didn't immediately respond, he studied her expression more intently. "...are you alright?"

Again she seemed to ignore him, keeping her arms crossed over her chest as she looked out over the serene landscape that surrounded the Rys'tihn Manor. She seemed troubled, but he remained patient at her side, awaiting her answer...

"Did you know that my parents and my sisters were returning home today?"

He felt his stomach turn to ice as he recognized the pain in her voice. "Yeah, I knew... I take it you didn't."

Though he expected to suffer her anger, the look in her eyes as she met his gaze only seemed to communicate self blame. She let out a slow breath as she continued, looking out the window once more.

"...I haven't spoken to my parents in months. They've been too...preoccupied."

He was no stranger to that feeling. Although his parents hadn't left Paneau very often, they were just as busy, if not busier, than the Natiyrs, through no fault of their own. It was something he had simply grown accustomed to over the years, but it seemed to have taken a heavier toll on her.

"This is a good opportunity to catch up, then," he offered lightly, hoping to lift her mood. She looked up at him with an appreciative smile, shaking her head the slightest bit.

"You always see the bright side of things, don't you?"

He shrugged with a grin. "Bright side, dark side, whichever side will make you smile again." Her expression fell after a few moments, though, prompting him to question her further. "What else is bothering you?"

She sighed again and hugged her arms more tightly around herself, looking even more uncomfortable than he had noticed earlier. "I'm not sure, I just...I feel different. Something within me is...changing."

Even more concerned, he gripped her shoulder, meeting her gaze intensely.

"I can't even explain it," she went on, more exasperated with herself than anything. "I feel...weaker. Maybe I'm coming down with something. Or maybe it's just anxiety, I really don't know."

"They've studied your immune system for almost a decade, and no one can figure out why it's so good. You've gone twenty-five years without even a cough, I don't think you're going to get sick now."

She gave a short laugh, not completely buying his rationalization. "Maybe it's something I've outgrown. I'm an altered clone who wasn't supposed to survive in the first place, so maybe my fate is finally catching up with me."

Taken aback by the sudden darkness in her thoughts, he pulled her into a warm embrace, even using the Force to comfort her. "You _were_ supposed to survive, Cordira. You're here, you've done so much good, and you've got even more to give. You've had a lot on your plate these past few months, so your body is probably just telling you that you need rest." Pulling back from her, he looked into her eyes once more. "You'll have a chance to relax and visit with your family today. It sounds like it's exactly what you need right now."

Though she still seemed somewhat lost, she eventually nodded, carefully stepping back from him with an odd expression on her face.

"You smell like a starfighter..."

Although a little embarrassed that he had forgotten his uncleanliness, he laughed. "If I sit next to you at dinner like this, I bet your sisters will leave you alone the whole night."

Finally cracking a small smile again, she nodded. "I'll pay you twenty credits right now."


	3. Chapter 2

_25.1 APC_  
_Paneau, capital city of Dalon_  
_Rys'tihn Manor_

It had been several years since all of the Rys'tihns and Natiyrs had shared a meal together, and Cordira quickly understood why she only remembered so few of these family gatherings throughout her childhood. Though they had all grown up together under the same roof, there was only so much twelve individuals could have in common besides their relation to each other. It was even more difficult to make such a large table in the Grand Banquet Hall seem like an intimate setting for close, personal discussion. Cordira felt like she was merely present for a meeting of royal dignitaries, not a casual dinner with her family.

Derek sat to her left and had kept her engaged for the majority of the meal, but her focus had been slowly waning. Most of the attention had been on the returning Jedi Academy students, her sisters Aruun and Arlen, and the two younger Rys'tihns, Kaylina and Kyren, as they took turns sharing their experiences and progress. Aruun, Arlen, and Kaylina sat at the end of the table, and they were quick to resume ceaselessly chatting among themselves once they could. They were in the same year of their studies and had become exceptionally tight knit friends since none of them had been able to come home for more than five years. The nineteen-year-old girls had been at the Academy since they were eight, and they were close to graduating and taking their Knighthood trials, a subject they continued to discuss with each other as the night wore on. Sitting to Cordira's right were the two youngest, eighteen-year-old Kyren and his younger cousin Wil. Kyren could hardly keep up with the plethora of questions Wil continued to excitedly throw his way, mostly involving the construction of his new lightsaber. It had been more than ten years since Cordira had seen Kyren, and she almost couldn't believe how much he resembled his mother; his jet black hair and emerald green eyes made him appear to be the Jedi Master's brother rather than her son.

Seated at the head of the table, Koril maintained a quiet conversation with Derek, while next to him, Elena and her daughter Dirani shared a lighthearted joke. Cordira's parents Rech and Mand, on Dirani's other side, spoke with each other, occasionally chiming in with Academy advice for their twin daughters and Kaylina beside them. All eleven voices going at once maintained a dull din that Cordira was beginning to tune out as a faint foreboding feeling settled in the back of her mind, warning her that something wasn't right...

"Cordira?"

Though her gaze had been transfixed on the table in front of her, she looked up to see everyone's attention suddenly locked on her. Her breath froze in her chest as the room's silence lingered, but she wasn't sure why all talk had ceased. Had she said something, done something she wasn't aware of when she thought she had been forgotten?

"Are you going to answer your sister's question?"

Her mother's tone was confused and somewhat offended, but a hint of worry kept her voice gentle and devoid of much edge. The expectant gazes were boring into her, though feeling Derek's hand on her arm, concealed below the table, eased her anxiety somewhat. She looked to her sisters, unsure which one had spoken to her, and thankfully Aruun repeated herself without appearing upset.

"How are things going with your guard?"

Glancing briefly at Koril to her left, she released a shaky breath before returning to Aruun. "They're going well. I have twelve trained to the level I want, and two more will be joining them soon. We haven't had a real...test yet, and hopefully we never do, but I'm confident in their skills and dedication."

Directly opposite her, Dirani turned to Elena, maintaining a blatantly loud volume so she could be well heard by all. "Mom, isn't it against the rules for Jedi to get involved with politics?"

An icy chill gripped Cordira to her core, and she was sure Derek could feel her trembling. For years, Dirani had found a number of ways to get under Cordira's skin, often antagonizing her without any provocation. She hadn't yet been so bold as to do so in front of their entire family, though, and even Elena was surprised by the thinly disguised aggression and struggled to answer.

"Well, yes - I mean..."

"My guards aren't Jedi," Cordira corrected Dirani, somehow keeping an even tone. "They're Force-sensitives I've trained in combat, self-defense, and a few essential Force skills. They're little more than Elite Guards with some extra abilities on the side."

Rolling her eyes, Dirani looked unconvinced. "Sounds to me like they're _extra_ unnecessary."

"That's _enough_, Dirani."

Though appreciative of Koril's stern intervention, Cordira couldn't let it become apparent in her expression. She had to uphold an appearance of strength, especially against Dirani. "It's alright, High Commander. You know I've fielded harsher accusations than that in the past year. The only thing that matters is that King Verojec understands what my guards are, what they're capable of, and he trusts them completely. I don't need anyone else's approval."

Another lengthy silence hung over the table as Cordira and Dirani locked gazes defiantly, but a gentle squeeze on Cordira's arm reminded her that Derek was still at her side, supporting her. Feeling her strength waning, she looked down as Kaylina spoke up cautiously.

"Why don't we all take a break before dessert..."

One by one, each chair was slowly vacated until she and Derek were the last remaining. Though he stayed silent at her side, she already knew what he was going to say before he spoke.

"I'm alright, Derek," she told him softly, meeting his gaze with a subtle smile. "You haven't seen your brother and sister in a long time. You should go talk to them."

Despite being unconvinced, Derek gave a weak sigh, knowing he couldn't argue with her. She would continue to deflect, intent on keeping his attention on anything but her as she had done for years. Rather than draw out her anger with a lengthy argument, he ceded and stood from her after a few moments, stepping over to Kaylina and Kyren who were excitedly chatting with their parents. Her own parents were in turn locked in conversation with her sisters, so, confident that she would be forgotten for the time being, she left the table, as well, retreating into one of the small, darkened side parlors to escape for a while.

A multi-colored window near the back of the room immediately caught her eye and eased her stress, as it turned the serene landscape outside the Rys'tihn Manor a number of interesting shades in the waning light of dusk. She remembered playing in the field with Derek when they were young children, chasing each other for hours and making up all sorts of wild games to keep themselves occupied while their parents were away. Of course, the nannies Kollie and Raen were always nearby and tended to them as needed, but as far back as she could remember, she and Derek had been closer than playmates. They were connected much more deeply than that, mostly because of how they had come to need each other's companionship as they had grown up in a unique atmosphere with atypical families...

"Your little 'poor me' act is _so_ juvenile."

From the doorway behind her, Dirani's voice sliced through her thoughts like a lightsaber blade, leaving a trail of white hot pain and anger behind. Though she had expected Dirani to follow her, Cordira took in a slow breath and kept her back to her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Leave me alone, Dirani."

But she persisted as she always did, approaching her further in the dim room. "You know, the only reason you were allowed to form your 'guard' was because everyone just felt sorry for you. The Jedi didn't want you, and the New Republic couldn't hire you as a pilot, even if they wanted to. What else were you going to do with yourself?"

Finally turning to face her, Cordira kept her expression neutral as she studied Dirani's face. Under her pure white, long locks were intense hazel eyes and a stony, unwavering stare; everything Cordira could read, even in the Force, communicated that Dirani believed what she was saying was true. It only sank her further into despair, though she fought to conceal it.

"You're lying."

"I know you can tell that I'm not," Dirani returned with a smirk. "Everyone else thinks you're too fragile to be told the truth...even Derek."

Cordira narrowed her eyes, the first response she visibly allowed. She knew that was false; Derek had always supported her and confided everything in her...

"That's right," Dirani continued in a light mocking tone. "He still hasn't told you the _real_ reason he didn't go to the Jedi Academy. He doesn't think you'll be able to handle it."

"What are you talking about? He didn't get invited, either."

"Oh, he was invited," she returned with an edge. "But he _chose_ not to go...because of _you_."

Stunned, Cordira couldn't feel her heart beating for several long moments. She wasn't even sure if she had heard Dirani correctly as they both stood in silence, but Dirani watched her closely for her reaction. She didn't want to believe it; she had to be living some kind of dream, and it was only getting worse.

Tired of waiting, Dirani crossed her arms over her chest for emphasis. "You heard me. He wouldn't go if you couldn't, so at nine years old, he made the worst decision of his life. My mother still hasn't forgiven him for it...nor has she forgiven you."

She could hardly find the strength to speak. "I didn't ask him to do that..."

"Doesn't matter. You're the reason my parents can barely stand to talk to each other anymore. They couldn't agree on whether to make him go or not, and they've only fought about it since. So we've all had to watch while my exceptionally talented brother, who was named for a Jedi Master who died to protect him before he was born, has been stuck here wasting his life all these years because of you, because of what you are -"

Unable to stand anymore of her enmity, something snapped, and Cordira bit back with as much malice as she could muster. "So what's your excuse? Didn't want your younger siblings to show you up at every skill, every day?"

Before Cordira could react, Dirani threw her hand forward and landed a sudden, powerful Force Push squarely in her stomach, lifting her off her feet and driving her backwards hard against the wall. Her arms outstretched reflexively to brace herself, she struck a delicate display vase just beside her, shattering it instantly as it deeply slashed her left forearm. Off balance and dazed, she fell to her knees and slumped back to the wall, already feeling blood tricking down her arm.

"What is going on - Cordira!"

Derek's footsteps ran up to her side and his arms wrapped around her, but she pulled away as she looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a mix of fear and anguish that appeared to confuse him.

"Is it true?" she breathed, but he was more interested in her wound.

"I don't understand, is what true? Let me see your arm, that cut looks pretty bad..."

But she retreated even further from him, covering her gash with her own hand. "You tell me right now... You were supposed to go to the Jedi Academy..."

The look of shock and defeat on his face was somewhat subtle and only lasted a moment before his expression became dark, turning to level his anger at his sister behind them.

"No, don't blame her," Cordira countered, surprising herself though her voice faltered. "_You're_ the one who's been lying to me since we were kids. All this time, you never told me..."

Returning to her, the regret in his eyes was almost unbearable to endure...

"I didn't want you to feel guilty."

Upset and unable to process the lengthy betrayal of trust by her closest friend, she pushed him away with her bloody hand and stood from him, desperate to leave. He reached out to steady her as she wavered, but again, she refused him.

"Cordira, please, you're hurt. Let me explain..."

She shook her head as she walked away briskly, ignoring him and everyone else who had gathered just outside the room. "You had fifteen years to explain. I am not the reason for your problems. _All_ of you Rys'tihns are completely incapable of communicating, and that is_ not_ my fault!"_  
_

Though she heard her parents call out to her to rebuke her for her behavior, she let the door to the Banquet Hall close behind her, quickly leaving the Manor before anyone could follow her.

* * *

_Paneau, capital city of Dalon_  
_Polu River_

"Cordira!"

Though his speeder had brought him to the river's banks as fast as its engines would burn, he was frustrated to find not a soul in sight. It was well into the evening and a humid chill had settled over the water already, but if there was anywhere in the city Cordira would disappear to when she wanted to clear her head, it would be there, where the two of them had often stolen away to in their early teens. At night, the river was always calm and quiet though closely surrounded by the bustling city, and it had become their haven of sorts, an escape from the ever-present nannies and Royal Guards that patrolled the Rys'tihn Manor. After such an upsetting chain of events just an hour earlier, he could understand her desire to disappear, but he had to talk to her.

"Cordira!"

He looked up and down the water's edge, even across the way to the opposite shore, but he still saw no one. Even after a few minutes of adjustment, his eyes struggled to see much detail in the dark, so he instead closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, searching the area for a familiar presence...

"She's not here, Derek."

Stepping out from behind a dense group of trees near the tide, Cordira's mother Jedi Master Mand Natiyr seemed as concerned as he did as she sighed resignedly. "I thought to look here, too."

He wasn't willing to give up, though, so he wracked his brain for another location to check. "There's a tapcafe near the Dalon Provincial Academy that's open all night; she loves their soori fish soup. I'll try there - "

But Master Natiyr gently cut him off, shaking her head. "Derek...she's gone. She's not on Paneau anymore."

Despite having subconsciously come to that conclusion already, he trusted that she would know better than anyone beyond a doubt. As a result of how she had been created, Cordira and her mother were connected to each other on a different, more direct level, and their signatures in the Force were almost identical. It had been nothing but a nuisance to Cordira over the years, Derek had noticed, but in this instance, he was almost thankful for it.

Master Natiyr looked apologetic. "I'm afraid she's inherited this particular move from me, only I ran away _to_ Paneau, not from it."

Feeling his guilt and anxiety beginning to take over, he released a weak breath. "Master, I am _so_ sorry... This is not how I wanted it to go."

"I know," she answered with genuine sympathy. "Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. I'm not sure if you remember, but...things didn't go over too well when we told her who she was after the Jedi denied her. We weren't prepared to tell her then, but we were forced to." She paused, lowering her gaze for a moment. "Cordira has had to deal with a lot of troubling news over her lifetime. She'll survive it. It'll just take her some time."

"I'm really worried about her..."

Though he hadn't intended to draw her attention to his stained shirt, Master Natiyr glanced at the bloody handprint on his chest. "Her father taught her all the Healing techniques he knows. She can take care of herself."

"That's not what I mean. I'm worried about her state of mind. Something she said earlier today...that her 'fate' is finally catching up with her?"

Without making any other movements, Master Natiyr's eyes widened, and he knew he had concerned her even more. After a few moments, she cast her gaze aside, prompting Derek to continue his plea. "I need to find her and talk to her, so I can try to explain. If she won't listen to my explanation, then I at least want to apologize. I just don't want her to be alone right now."

Looking to him once more, she considered her thoughts a moment before she responded. "I really don't know where else she would go. She grew up here, she hates Coruscant, she won't go anywhere near Hoth or Ord Mantell... The only other places she's been are...not charted."

The daunting nature of his search didn't bother him in the slightest. "I'll find her."

Master Natiyr nodded to accept his assertion, and the small smile she gave him demonstrated her faith in him.


	4. Chapter 3

Keeping her expression as neutral as possible, Cordira stared hard at the Nagai sitting across from her. He in turn held her gaze, studying her just as intently with his pale gray, narrowed eyes that amplified his angular features. He looked menacing, as if tense and ready to strike, but she couldn't flinch or even appear to breathe.

Though the room was completely silent and somewhat dark, she knew just how well he could read her. She felt his penetrating senses almost like a probing brush through her thoughts, and the other two pairs of eyes fixed on her from either side reminded her that she had to control every facet of her body language. Her heart wanted to race, but she wouldn't, she couldn't allow it. It would give her away.

The Nagai narrowed his eyes even more after a long moment before he finally spoke, his dry voice slow and calculated.

"You have the Idiot's Array."

Tapping the cards in her hand, she withheld a broad, cocky smile a moment longer. "How do you know?"

The Nagai's eyes carefully tracked all over her face. "You're too relaxed to have just won the substantial hand pot, but you are content enough to have ended the game so you won't lose any more credits. I didn't even have to count the cards this time."

Finally able to, she beamed with pride. "Excellent work, Natacc. You've come a long way."

Natacc instantly relaxed and looked pleased with himself, as well, and his two companions both clapped him on his shoulders in celebration from his right and left.

"She had me beat," Woxl, the green-skinned Nautolan freely admitted with an unabashed smile typical of his race. "I had no chance, cards or reading her."

"I think she's lost her edge, actually," Rathor countered with an arrogant grin, his handsome human features doing little to win her over. Blond hair and green eyes from Corellia with the attitude and ego to match it, he had been the most difficult of the three to rein in.

"You had me figured out, Rathor?"

He shrugged, still grinning. "I didn't want to brag. It was Natacc's turn, after all."

Somehow keeping herself from rolling her eyes, she returned her attention to Natacc, focusing on the lesson at hand. "Your concentration was good and steady, maybe even a little intense. You still need to work on finesse, not pushing too hard or too deep, but I'm sure some more practice and experience will help with..."

She sensed him only moments before she saw him, rendering her speechless as he slowly stepped into the room directly behind Natacc. Her expression fell as she stared up at him wide eyed, momentarily unsure if he was actually there or if she was imagining him. It had been six long months since she had left so suddenly, leaving no one any notice or any indication where she was going. How had he found her? Surely she was hallucinating.

But her friends noticed him, too, after following her gaze and immediately sprang into action in her defense.

"Hey, who are you?"

"This is a private game, pal."

"If you're looking for trouble, you came to the wrong place."

She quickly held up a hand to stay them in their seats. "It's alright, you three...he's an old friend."

Getting skeptical looks from all of them simultaneously, she smiled as best she could to ease their concerns. Her visitor had come for a lengthy discussion, she could tell, so she took in the confidence the others had in her as fuel for it, certain she would need it. "We'll continue this some other time. Keep practicing with each other. Rathor should be able to share some of his vast knowledge," she added with a wry grin, "since he can best me so easily."

Though Rathor's ego needed no further padding, it at least lightened the mood of the other two as they began to leave. Woxl still remained concerned, though, studying her with his large black eyes, but she dismissed him with a light shake of her head.

"Don't worry, Woxl. We'll meet again soon."

The Nautolan gave another calculating look to their visitor before he, too, left, albeit hesitantly, and within moments, Cordira had a hard lump in her throat as she looked up at him from her seat. He hadn't yet said a word, nor had he moved, but he was patient as ever.

"Derek..."

His posture was unassuming, as if waiting to be invited into the room further, but feeling her unresolved anger returning, she didn't offer. He had shown up unannounced, and in the middle of her business, so he was right to be cautious.

"You're a hard woman to find."

The relief in his voice was readily apparent; he made no effort to hide it. She only hardened her gaze in response, though, merciless. "How did you find me? Did my parents send you after me? Or did you have me followed?"

"Your parents didn't send me. I wanted to find you."

The sincere concern in his eyes was too much to take; she had to look away as he continued.

"Your mom and dad were concerned about you when you left. We all were." He ignored her dismissive scoff. "I knew you wouldn't go anywhere you thought we'd guess easily. I also figured you'd go somewhere you thought we wouldn't expect you to ever go. Between Coruscant, Hoth, and Ord Mantell...I put my credits on Coruscant. Hoth was too isolated, and a visitor there would be noticed pretty quickly. Ord Mantell was tempting, but we'd really only spent our time there trapped on the _Celestia_, not that much on the planet itself. Though after all this time I still don't know why, Coruscant is your absolute least favorite place to be, and I thought that if you really wanted to hide from us...it would be here. I just got lucky after a few months that someone recognized your description, and...well, here I am."

For a brief moment, she almost felt her anger dissolve; he really did know her better than she knew herself, but she steeled her emotions and hardened her heart once more. He still had his betrayal of her trust to answer for, and that had burned more deeply than she could tell him. It had been the main reason she had left, and she had gotten no relief in the interim.

In the lengthy silence, he looked her over, his eyes tracing her slender frame that he could see behind the table. "How have you been? Did you arm heal up okay?"

She had nearly forgotten the physical scars that the events of that night had earned her. In any other altercation, she might have given Dirani a matching arm wound, but Derek had intervened just in time, and she had learned the truth directly from him. She had to fight to keep an emotional tremor out of her response.

"My father taught me every healing technique he knew when we were away on that four-year mission in my late teens, and my mother has been training me in combat and self-defense since I was three. I can handle myself, and I've been keeping myself busy."

"Teaching a couple of guys how to cheat at a game of sabacc?"

The sudden pallor in his face told her just how much he regretted his words, and the dark look she shot him further intensified his remorse. She stood from her seat and stepped away to a window that looked out into a dingy, enclosed alley, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Even though only minimal artificial light filtered in from the surrounding Underlevels, she could see Derek's reflection in the transparisteel as he stood behind her. His truly reticent expression, unchanged though she was no longer looking directly at him, somehow weakened the anger she felt, softening her answer considerably after a lengthy pause.

"They're not cheating. They are using their senses to read people, like I do."

Turning back to face him, she released a slow breath, preparing her explanation. "Those three are rejects like me. The Jedi Academy wouldn't take them, either, so I decided to teach them what I could. They will never reach a Jedi Master's skill level, and neither will I, but I've at least given them an edge in life they might not have had otherwise. They're good men; they just needed someone to believe in them and in their abilities."

He nodded in understanding, remaining curious but not pressing her further, perhaps for fear of upsetting her even more. They locked gazes in silence once more, and though he seemed reluctant to speak, he finally found his voice again.

"I'm so glad you've been okay. I've been nothing but worried sick since you left."

Feeling something snap deep inside her, she couldn't quell the resurfacing pain and fury. "No, don't you _dare_. You do _not_ get to lie to me for fifteen years, _fifteen years_, then tell me you're worried about me. Don't even try."

But he continued to plead, earnestly gesturing with his hands for her pardon. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain, Cordira..."

"What more could you possibly have to say? It's a very simple explanation, Derek: my best friend has lied to my face since we were children, and apparently I was the only one who didn't know about it."

Though his posture sagged and he seemed prepared to give up already, he remained, pressing forward with his confession.

"I was going to tell you," he continued softly. "When Kaylina and your sisters graduated, I was going to explain everything. I had even talked to your parents to get advice on how to approach the topic - "

"Because my parents have such a _spotless_ track record with me, too."

It had taken the Jedi Academy's rejection for her parents to inform her that she only existed as an experiment, an altered clone of her mother. She had been nine years old when her world had been turned upside down for the first time without any warning, advancing her deep-seated independent nature even further. She had relied on Derek's unfailing friendship in the aftermath of the revelation, no longer able to fully trust her parents. Good intentioned as they were, she drifted further and further from them over time, but Derek knew that. He had been by her side through it all, yet he had done the same thing to her all these years later.

"I told you, I didn't want you to feel guilty. You parents fought against the Academy's decision as best they knew how, and so did I. If they were going to treat you with such suspicion without even giving you a chance, then I wanted nothing to do with them. Their ruling told me they weren't as enlightened as they billed themselves to be, and I wanted to support you by standing with you, not by leaving you behind.

"My decision was just that, _my _decision. You can't tell me that had I told you back then that you wouldn't have tried to change my mind."

"Of _course_ I would have tried to change your mind! There was no reason you had to throw away your chance at becoming the Jedi you should've been, just because of what was done to me. I would have been sad that you left, yes, but I would have backed you! You owe your life to a Jedi Master who sacrificed his to protect you; how could you _not _continue his legacy? What good did it do you to remain a civilian when you should have been so much more?"

Though she had raised her voice, her tone only conveyed the anguish and responsibility she bore on his behalf. He sighed visibly, weary but still refusing to back down. He was either beginning to understand her frustration, or maybe he had heard that same argument before. His parents had to have discussed it with him more than once...

"I am a Rys'tihn Royal, and I am a pilot for the Edgepoint Squadron like my father before me. We do plenty of good every day. So I only serve the citizens of Paneau directly. Jedi aren't the only protectors of peace that people rely on. Sometimes that duty does fall to others.

"My mother has asked me the same questions hundreds of times. Only recently have I been able to tell her what I just told you. And you know why? Because I've learned from your example, your dedication to Verojec's Guard. You've shown me that like you, I, in fact, _don't_ have to be a Jedi to make a difference. Anything you do, you strive to be the best. I bet you could even apply yourself to a random New Republic squadron, fly with them anonymously, and still run circles around them. You just have the raw skills that no lack of training can hide. I found that I'm not that bad, either, and I'm actually pretty damn good at what I do. So don't blame yourself for my decision to 'throw away' my life, because you're the reason I'm where I am today, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Absorbing all he had said, she stood breathless for a moment, but he didn't pause for long.

"I am sorry that you had to find out the way you did. That wasn't fair to you, and I'm going to make Dirani apologize to you somehow. It was never my intention to hurt you by keeping this from you; I wanted the opposite. You deserve to be treated better than that, so if you can no longer trust me...I'll accept it."

Still stunned, she hardly moved. She had fully felt the sincerity of his words deep in her heart, but was his apology enough to soothe the pain she had endured for months? She wanted to send him away so she could process it all on her own, left alone to her conflicting feelings he could sense in turn, but she couldn't find the strength to speak. Perhaps the Force itself had immobilized her tongue so she couldn't reflexively retaliate, allowing her mind to calm and return to him a fair answer.

"Is there anything else you've been lying to me about? Now's the time to come clean about everything, and I'll think about it."

He didn't even hesitate. "You were always a crummy sabacc player. I used to let you win so Dirani would think I was a pushover, then I'd take her for all she had in the next hand. Maybe that's why she's never liked you."

Despite the weeks and weeks of heartache and depression she had suffered alone on the cityplanet, a wan, genuine smile slowly spread across her face. She had known of that particular tactic he'd employed for years, even without reading him, but she had never told him. It had been far more entertaining to watch him believe he had her fooled, and repeatedly winning their games was just an added perk. Though she would still need time to mend, she couldn't keep a cold heart against her best friend for long.

"I've missed you."

He wasn't very good at disguising his surprise as his shoulders sagged with relief. "I've missed you, too. Every day since you left."

Before she realized it, her feet were carrying her towards him where he met her with a warm, comforting embrace. It didn't take long for her to lose herself in the peacefulness his touch brought her as she, too, wrapped her arms around him, thankful for his familiar presence. She drew in several lengthy breaths, savoring the moment as much as she could until he spoke again.

"So will you come home now?"

Stepping back from him, she slowly shook her head to his dismay. "I've no reason to go back. There's nothing left for me on Paneau."

He struggled to find words in his confusion. "But...your Guard...?"

"They don't need me," she returned nonchalantly, folding her arms over her chest. "I left my Guard in very capable hands. Tavyna Jax is an excellent leader; they'll do fine."

"But she's not you. She can't teach them everything you can."

She shrugged. "She doesn't need to teach them anything, just keep them organized. Like I said, they don't need me."

"_I_ need you."

He seemed to have blurted out the words without thinking, and he scrambled to rephrase. "I need you to come with me - err, I mean, I would _like_ for you to accompany me...to the Royal Forces Ball."

Blinking, she hesitated, unsure if she had heard him correctly. "You want me to go with you to the Royal Forces Ball?"

"It's next week," he nodded. "We're hosting a New Republic squadron that's been stationed in our sector. Your parents and your sisters will be there, as will my family, so it would be a good way for everyone to see you in a...casual setting."

She barely restrained a groan. "From what I remember, the Ball is anything _but_ a 'casual setting'. You do realize that I've worn a dress all of _three_ times in my life, right?"

"It's more relaxed than some of the other functions I've had to attend, I can guarantee you that." She sighed; he hadn't yet won her over. "Look, it would mean a lot to me, and to our families, if you made an appearance. I'll buy you any dress you want, just, please...come home with me."

As much as she loathed these stuffy, formal events that Paneau officials loved to put on every few months, she found she couldn't deny Derek's plea. She tested his patience, though, only giving him her answer after a lengthy silence and another reluctant sigh.

"Any dress I want?"

"Any dress you want."

With a slowly spreading grin, she finally nodded, accepting his offer. "You know I'll hold you to it."


End file.
